


Sheith Collection

by RangoAteMyBaby (FormallyKnownAsFreya)



Series: Rango's VLD Drabble Collection 2019-2020 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Come Swallowing, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Teasing, distracted sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormallyKnownAsFreya/pseuds/RangoAteMyBaby
Summary: This is a compilation of several small VLD drabble requests I’ve done over the past two years. This collection is purely Sheith and contains both SFW and NSFW drabbles. So please check tags and read at your discretion. (Tags to be added as drabbles are added)
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Rango's VLD Drabble Collection 2019-2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132529
Comments: 17
Kudos: 89





	1. Meet-Cute at the Dog Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith meet for the first time at a dog park thanks to Keith's rambunctious dog Kosmo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this drabble are: College AU

Shiro loves coming to the dog park. 

He used to come every day before his canine companion passed on. Sometimes he thinks about getting another dog but with the loss still so fresh so it feels too soon. That said, he still likes walking the old paths and taking in the sights of their favorite haunts. 

The wooded paths. The frisbee green. The pond and it's ducks. All are full with happy pup owners playing with their dogs or rolling around in the grass.

The old hot dog vendor Coran is still there. He sells dogs for humans and treats for dogs every day. Shiro used to talk to him every time he visited the park with Champion. He'd pick up a chili dog and a snack too. It was so ingrained into their routine that Coran can't help but comment on it when Shiro pulls his wallet for a quick snack. 

“Been a while, Shiro,” says the mustached man as he fixes him a Chicago dog. “Memory lane a little difficult to trod lately? That why you haven’t been by to see your buddy Coran the hotdog man?”

“No, Coran, just busy,” Shiro chuckles. “But today’s such a nice day, thought I’d--”

“--pick up a lovely dog-loving lady or sir for a romantic stroll through the park?” Coran interrupts with a wink and it makes Shiro laugh as he denies it. “You can’t fool these old eyes! You’re here scoping for, what’s the word? Babes! Yes, that’s it! Looking for babes, Shiro?”

“No, no,” Shiro denies again with another laugh. “I’m not exactly everyone’s type,” he says gesturing at his prosthetic. “Too much upkeep.”

“Says you! You never know when it comes to romance!” Coran tells him as he hands over his hotdog. “Love could strike at any moment! Bam! Like a freight train!”

“Yeah, sure, haha--”

“LOOK OUT!!”

Shiro barely has time to turn his head before he's tackled to the ground by something. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it was that train Coran mentioned, only furrier and slobbering all over his face with happy whines. It takes him a second to realize he’s been jumped on by an enormous long-haired German Shepard. It’s not trying to hurt him or anything, but the moment it’s nose touches Shiro’s hot dog the animal snaps it up in his jaws.

“Kosmo NO! Stop!” says a voice but Shiro still can’t see the face attached to it for all the animal bulk in his way. “Get off him!  _ Don’t eat that!! _ KOSMO!”

It takes several yanks by the dog’s collar before Shiro feels the weight lift off him. The dog barks and whines with excitement, pulling to get out of its owner’s arms. With the dog removed the owner’s face is revealed. A flustered and oh...Shiro blinks with interest. 

He’s young. He’s in track pants with a local university’s tee shirt. Looks like he was trying to jog with his dog but the beast got away from him. His hair is dark and tussled from chasing after the animal. His normally pale cheeks are flushed with exertion from trying to reign in his dog. 

A good looking guy despite the exasperated frown on his face.

“I am  so  sorry!” he says, struggling to keep hold on Kosmo’s massive body. “Are you okay? Did he bite you?”

“I'm fine. And don't worry, he kept his teeth to my hot dog,” Shiro chuckles.

“Damn it, Kosmo!” Keith admonishes. “Like you don’t eat enough--you gotta eat everyone else’s food too?”

The animal shows no sign of remorse and starts nosing Shiro's pockets, sniffing for more food and trying to jump up. The young stranger pulls him back down by his collar, but in all honesty, the animal is stronger than he is so it’s a struggle. A struggle his owner’s not really winning.

Shiro can see that the young man is scanning over him as he stands up. He’s been around long enough to know a once over when he sees one. But the guy gathers his thoughts fast enough to clear his throat and speak.

“Sorry,” he says again. “He’s got a mind of his own.”

“New owner?” Shiro guesses from the inexperience splashed all over his face.

“Yeah,” the guy nods. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” Shiro nods with a chuckle. 

He notes how the dog’s attention goes to anything that’s moving. The beast wants to go investigate _everything_ and gets frustrated when his owner won’t let him go. Wiggling and writhing to free himself.

“Is he always this energetic?” Shiro asks. 

“Sort of,” the young man answers and proceeds to explain.

He says his name is Keith and that he just moved to the city to start college. The dog was a surprise companion that he picked up in the months previous to moving. Long story short, Keith hit Kosmo with his car and decided to pay for all his medical bills. No one came forward to claim him so he decided to keep the dog but he had to take the dog with him when he moved. Not a problem except...

“We lived out in the boonies,” Keith tells him. “He’s never been to a dog park before. Never worn a leash or a collar either. He’s used to being the only dog for twenty miles so...this is probably a little too much for him.”

It looks like it might be a little much for Keith too by the looks of it. The poor guy looks exhausted trying to keep up with his dog. Shiro wishes there was something he could do to hel--wait a minute!

There is! Of course, there is!

“Would you like some tips on how to train him?” Shiro offers. “I’ve been training dogs all my life. In fact, it used to be my job.”

“Really?” Keith blinks with disbelief and Shiro nods. “Yeah. Yeah! That’d be great! Anything to get him to listen!”

“Follow me. I know a calm spot by the pond,” Shiro says.

Keith has to drag his dog away from some squirrels he’s interested in as he follows Shiro. Once the pond is in sight, Kosmo is back to being the one pulling Keith towards the ducks. He just barely manages to keep the animal from tugging him into the water.

It’s a good spot with lots of shrubbery and flowers. Has a beautiful view on the pond and a gazebo across the water. The area seems to be popular with older folks and their dogs, evidenced by picnic areas with napping pets and owners. It’s calm and quiet, all things considered, and it seems to have a slight impact on Kosmo as he stops pulling so hard.

“I noticed that you give him a lot of slack with his leash,” Shiro tells him.

“Is that bad?”

“It makes it easier for him to pull out of your grip. Gives him the freedom for a running yank,” Shiro explains. “May I?” he asks, gesturing to the leash. 

Keith passes it over and Shiro demonstrates a better way. He tells Keith not to let the dog walk ahead of him if he can help it. To shorten the slack considerably so that Kosmo has to walk beside him for now. Right at his hip. Makes it harder for the dog to get a running start and decreases the chances that he can pull away. 

Keith watches with interest as Shiro shows him by walking Kosmo in a straight line a couple of times. When the dog tries to bolt for ducks again Shiro has no trouble at all reigning him back in. 

“If he tries to pull ahead, plant your feet and stop until he stops moving too. Then start walking again. He’ll learn that he’s only supposed to go when you go,” Shiro tells him while demonstrating. “Don’t forget to reward him for doing the behavior right.”

“Huh, wow,” Keith blinks, shocked that Kosmo isn’t giving him nearly as much trouble. He then scrambles for his phone and starts jotting down notes inside. “Shorter slack. Plant feet. Rewards. Great. What else?”

Shiro sees that eager-to-learn face and feels himself smile. He approaches Keith with his dog and hands off the leash. Keith is quick to hold it the same way Shiro was, showing him to be a quick study. He even plants his feet so Kosmo can’t pull easily. Makes Shiro a little proud that he’s ready to try these things right off the bat.

He teaches Keith how to get his dog to ‘heel’, ‘sit’, and ‘stay’. Little pointers that will make it easier for Keith since he’s new to this. But the biggest thing for all these techniques is to be consistent and repeat them over and over. It’s going to take a lot of patience and focus but it’ll be worth it not to have his shoulder yanked out of it's socket every time they go for a walk.

“He’ll probably get it down in a couple of weeks,” Shiro says and gives the dog a good pat and neck ruffle. “Seems like a smart dog to me.”

“Too smart sometimes,” Keith chuckles. 

At that Kosmo looks up and gives him sad pouty eyes. It weakens Keith’s will a little and in that moment he tries to run for the bushes. Luckily, Shiro grabs him by the collar so he doesn’t get far. Kosmo gives an annoyed huff and settles down for a moment, biding his time before trying again.

“See? He’s going to give me as much trouble as possible,” Keith shakes his head in disappointment at him. "Stubborn. What am I going to do with you?"

Shiro sees an opportunity here. Not only to help with this dog’s training but also a chance to spend a little more time with this...really good looking guy who still keeps sneaking discreet looks at him. He clears his throat and throws out an offer hoping that Keith will accept.

“If you want, I’m here every day around four,” he tells Keith. “I don’t mind helping you out with his training.”

“Yeah?” Keith smiles that eager smile and it’s starting to melt Shiro’s heart in his chest.

“Of course,” Shiro nods. “With enough training, a good dog can save your life. And in more ways than one,” he reveals and pulls his own phone. 

He turns the screen to show a picture of himself from a couple years ago. He’s in his full combat uniform with a large retriever by his side. Both of them are fitted in protective gear for some war overseas and both look extremely proud. Then Shiro swipes through several pictures over the years until it gets to the two of them at this very spot. The only real change is that Shiro has a metal arm now and the dog looks much older. 

Retired, the both of them, but still just as happy as the military pic. 

“Can’t tell you how many times Champion saved my life, on and off the field,” Shiro reveals. "I'll never forget him."

“Amazing,” Keith awes at the pictures. “Think Kosmo could ever be like that?” he asks.

They look over at the dog, who is pulling as far forward as he can to stick his nose in a gopher hole. He snorts out dirt with a cough then fully sticks his nose back inside, his tail wagging a million miles an hour. Just the sight makes both humans laugh.

“With some work...and patience,” Shiro says.

“A lot of patience,” Keith snorts as the dog coughs more dirt out. “Shit, it’s almost six. I need to head back to my apartment before my roommate burns down the kitchen,” he sighs but then turns to face Shiro, hand extended. “Thanks...for all your help, uh...I never got your name.”

“It’s Shiro,” he laughs and shakes Keith’s hand. “And it’s my pleasure, Keith. Here,” he says, scribbling something down on his hot dog napkin before handing it off to Keith. “My number in case you have training questions. I’ll be glad to help.”

“Great,” Keith nods, looking over the number with a smile. He bites his lip before asking, “And if I don’t have questions but just want to talk...could I still call you?”

Shiro gets another one of those looks only this time it’s not discreet at all. He’s always liked forward guys. Especially fit looking ones like Keith. Makes Shiro flush a little as he scratches the back of his head with a nod.

“Y-Yeah, sure,” Shiro answers, feeling sheepish all of a sudden. "If you want."

“Maybe you could, uh, give me and Kosmo a tour of the city sometime?” Keith suggests with a smile. “Hit up a café or something for lunch? My treat since Kosmo scarfed your food.”

“I’d...like that,” Shiro smiles back. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then I’ll call you. Soon,” Keith says over his shoulder as he starts walking towards the path with Kosmo’s leash firmly in hand. “Sorry my dog knocked you over but...I’m kinda glad he did. It was nice meeting you, Shiro,” he bids him goodbye with a wave.

Shiro can’t say he isn’t glad too. He could have just as easily stayed home today. If he had, he never would have had this little meet-cute with Keith, the college student with a dog in need of serious training. A dog that just so happened to knock over a man who spent his career teaching K-9 units. And now thanks to said dog, Shiro has a tentative lunch date with a damn good looking guy who is clearly very interested in him.

As he walks home, Shiro finds himself thinking about getting a nice chew toy for Kosmo. A subtle thank you for making all this happen and for giving Shiro something to look forward to again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this drabble, please, leave a kudos or a comment. If you don't know what to write, you can simply leave a heart or the word 'kudos'. If you have a favourite part, tell me about it and how it made you feel. Any love you show for the content is always appreciated.
> 
> As with any of my works, you never need ask if you can make fanart. Just credit me and tag me on [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/RangoAte). I always love seeing art of any kind.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope to get more fresh drabbles out to you soon. Stay safe out there, Paladins.


	2. Distracted Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Shiro take a trip down memory lane as they wander around the Garrison. Then they play a naughty game in the simulator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble Rating: Explicit  
> Tags: Post canon, Established relationship, Distracted Sex, Hand job, Oral Sex, Teasing, Come-eating

Getting back to normal is easier than the Paladins of Voltron ever thought it would be after the Lions left. 

Pidge went straight to work with her brother to make helpful tech programs and robots that ran on them. Hunk dove into his culinary career, traveling and feeding the cosmos in one fell swoop. Lance moved to the country with his family, starting a juniberry farm right on Earth.

As for Shiro, he stayed on at the Garrison. Not as a soldier or a pilot, but as a teacher. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was relaxing in a certain way. Having the biggest emergency be that the simulator needs a repair is a refreshing change from charging into battle.

Plus, the teaching job came with plenty of off time to spend with his other love.

Keith joined the Blades like everyone knew he would. It allowed him time with his mother and the culture he was kept from all his life. And it allowed him to help people which Keith came to understand was all he ever wanted. Plus, that job afforded him the opportunity to travel anywhere he wanted, including Earth to see Shiro whenever he had time off.

Like today.

A Marmoran ship comes to a stop on the landing strip, the burst of air from its engines blowing Shiro’s white hair back and whipping it around his face until the ship comes to a complete stop and cuts its engines. The boarding platform lowers and down it walks several visiting Blades, most of them already in their civilian clothes, ready for their furlough. 

Shiro spots Keith coming down the ramp while talking with some of his comrades. Keith’s ditched the old style clothes he used to wear along with the color palette. Gone is the cropped red and white jacket from his teens. In its place, he wears a full length leather one with the Marmoran tones of navy and black. When he works, his long hair is usually tied back away from his face, but every time he comes home, Keith tends to wear it over his shoulder in a braid.

When Keith reaches the bottom of the ramp, his eyes flit to Shiro. He quickly excuses himself from the conversation, wishing them a good time on their break, before striding towards Shiro. Shiro closes the last of the distance, and the two of them embrace warmly with a kiss.

“How was the trip?” Shiro asks, and Keith huffs. “That bad, huh?”

“I flew the simulator smoother when I was twelve,” Keith frowns, and Shiro laughs a little. “I miss having the Lions.”

“I’ll bet,” Shiro smiles and adjusts his glasses. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Shiro. Sorry, I don’t get out here more often,” Keith says with a contrite look. “They keep us busy.”

“You like it,” Shiro chuckles, and Keith finally smiles.

“Yeah, I do,” he admits. “But for the next two weeks, I’m all yours.”

“Good to hear. Ready to head out?” Shiro asks. “Unless you wanted to wander the Garrison for a bit?”

“It has been a while,” Keith smirks. “Is Iverson still teaching flight procedures? And does the cafeteria still serve that chocolate pudding?”

The answer is yes to both questions. 

Instead of going out to eat like Shiro had planned, they get food from the cafeteria. It’s just as well. Keith doesn’t feel like being out in public as soon as he gets back and Shiro doesn't have any food at the house. 

It’s been years since they saved the universe, but Keith still gets swarmed by people who recognize him as the pilot of both the red and black lions. It’s hard to get a moment’s peace when they’re out and about at restaurants and stores. Shiro hasn’t had to worry about it much since he’s a common sight these days, but Keith’s visits are infrequent enough that it still causes a stir with the locals.

The both of them check out all of Keith’s old haunts at the Garrison, before he got kicked out, that is. His old classrooms and his old dorms spark some old memories. They run into a few of Shiro’s students breaking curfew, but knowing that Keith was the same way, Shiro lets them slide with a warning. They’re about to leave for their home off-base when they pass by a very familiar room that Keith can't help but peek inside.

“Wow, look at that thing,” Keith snorts, shaking his head at the flight simulator but approaching it nonetheless. “It looks exactly the same. Does it even work?”

“We have nicer ones up a few floors, but yeah, it still works,” Shiro chuckles with a fond look. “Sometimes I use it to travel down memory lane. The programs are outdated as well as the equipment, but… it’s fun. The cadets use it during their downtime when they’re bored. Like it’s a video game.”

“It practically is at this point,” Keith sighs and runs his hand on the outside. “But you’re right. It stirs memories,” Keith says with a sigh and a smile.

An idea forms in Shiro’s head. A spark of playfulness and sentimentality creeping up on him.

“Want to give it a try? For memory’s sake before we head home?” Shiro suggests already keying in the code to open it up.

“Really?” Keith snorts but follows him in. “I’ll probably crash it. I can’t remember the last time I got to pilot anything with the Blades. Everything’s done by grunts now.”

Keith takes his seat. He shifts and gets a feel for the controls, his smile widening the more he remembers his teenage years in that exact seat. Shiro swipes the control panel and types in a scenario. One of the first ones Keith ever did, before he was even a Garrison student. The smile on Keith’s face shows that he remembers, and he jumps right in.

It’s easier than most simulations, and Keith falls back into it easily with an excited grin. He does a slightly longer and more difficult scenario after that and passes it with flying colors. Shiro’s proud and says as much as he ruffles Keith’s hair like he used to do when he was younger.

“Good work, cadet,” Shiro jokes, and Keith rolls his eyes with a smile. “Now, can you do it with distractions?”

“Distractions?” Keith raises a suspicious brow, like he knows where this is going. 

“A good pilot can maintain their focus and fly through anything,” Shiro boasts proudly. “So, can you?”

“I don’t know,” Keith shrugs but gives him an intrigued smile. “But I’m down to try.”

The simulation begins again, this time with Shiro standing closer to Keith. It’s tame at first. Shiro plays with his hair, tugging on his braid or running his fingers through his bangs. It’s distracting, but not enough to hinder his flying. 

Then Shiro starts touching his face.

He never obstructs Keith’s view. Shiro’s hand glides over his jaw, cupping and caressing his cheek with his thumb. Keith leans into it a little but maintains flight. That hand then slides down his neck, squeezing gently before going further to thumb against Keith’s collarbones just under his shirt collar.

“Mmm,” Keith hums with approval. 

Shiro lowers himself a little and presses his mouth to Keith’s neck. He gives him a few open mouth kisses before latching on and sucking on his pulse. Keith sighs and tilts his head to grant Shiro more access. When Shiro’s hand trails down to his crotch and gives a firm squeeze, Keith sharply inhales—

—and promptly crashes the simulation.

“Whoops,” Shiro chuckles as he pulls back. “You barely made it through the first third.”

“Yeah, well, I had you pawing at me,” Keith snorts and pulls on Shiro’s tie for a kiss. “I doubt anyone could finish with that kind of ‘distraction.’”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself,” Shiro jabs, kissing Keith again.

“Pfft,” Keith scoffs and shoves him back. He stands and gestures to the chair. “You think it’s so easy, you do it. Professor.”

Shiro plays it cool most days but he definitely has a competitive spirit on par with Keith's. He accepts the challenge and cracks his knuckles before taking a seat. He punches in the sequences to begin the simulation again. He gives Keith a smirk, adjusts his glasses, and takes the controls.

Keith’s distractions begin much like Shiro’s, emulating the teacher as it were. Fingers play in his white silken hair. The pads of his fingers scrape lightly down his five o’clock shadow. He splays his hands down Shiro’s shirt and gropes freely at his pecks, rolling his hard nipples between his fingers.

Shiro gets turned on by all the ‘distractions’ as evidenced by his rising hardon but doesn’t waver even a fraction as he flies the simulator. If Keith didn’t know any better, he’d think Shiro barely noticed his attentions. He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed, but either way, his competitive nature is sparking up.

It’s time to up the ante.

He pulls his hands out of Shiro’s shirt and moves around the chair a bit. He takes to his knees and begins groping in earnest over Shiro’s straining erection. Moments later, his fingers unbutton the fly and palm inside. Hot and hard. A flush starts rising on Shiro’s face, but other than that, no change.

“Impressive, professor,” Keith admits, a devious smirk forming. 

Keith pulls down the waistband and frees Shiro’s cock. The second he grasps it and starts stroking, Shiro sucks in a calming breath. Finally, a reaction, but the simulation isn’t affected at all. At that, Keith licks his hand and returns it sopping wet to Shiro’s thick cock for more languid strokes. More calming breaths, but Shiro's face has gone from petal pink to rosy red.

“Wow, you really are focused,” Keith nods, impressed.

“You have to be able to tune out any kind of distraction while flying,” Shiro manages to say. “I’m just… that good,” he tries to brag, but he sounds a little breathy.

“Yeah?” Keith raises a brow. “Let’s see just how good.”

Keith pushes his way into the space between Shiro’s legs, hand still stroking Shiro’s cock. Without much warning or workup at all, Keith sinks onto Shiro’s cock with hum. Shiro barely bites back a noise of surprise quickly followed by pleasure. 

Admittedly, it’s much harder to keep his composure when he thinks about the velvety warmth of Keith’s mouth sucking away on him. He begins sighing with each bob of Keith’s head. Sighs turn to panting and swallowed back noises. His hands grip tight to the controls in an attempt to keep his focus, but then Keith deepthroats him and he can’t help the moan he exhales.

Shiro starts to drift a little and realizes it a little late. He over-corrects and nearly crashes the simulation, but he gets it back under control just before clipping a rock formation. Keith chuckles a little, his mouth still full of Shiro’s now weeping cock. His tongue swirls around the head of the cock before fully pulling off with a loud wet pop.

“What would be more distracting?” Keith wonders, his tone impish. “Me keeping going? Or me stopping?”

“Don’t stop,” Shiro practically begs. 

Keith smirks. Now that he knows he’s got Shiro’s complete attention, he feels like being a bit of a brat.

“I think I’ll just… tease for a while,” Keith decides. “That’s got to be annoying after having my mouth all over you.”

“Fuck… _Keith_ …” Shiro groans when Keith licks the tip of his sensitive cock.

“You said you could handle _any_ distraction, I’m just taking you at your word,” Keith reminds him. “Pass the simulation and you can decide what we do next. Deal?”

Shiro bites his bottom lip and stifles the desperation just itching to spill past his lips. 

He nods to answer, and Keith continues.

Keith licks in long strips, sloppy and wet from base to tip. Occasionally he strokes the spit up and down, spreading it all over Shiro’s length with a smarmy grin. There’s no doubt that after being so close, that this teasing is torturous for Shiro. Each time Keith moves in close only to lick his leaking cockhead, his hands grip even harder on the controls. By now, his knuckles are turning white on one hand the other is denting the metal controls.

The simulation is twenty minutes long if done correctly, and they’re finally approaching the end. Keith must see the relief in his eyes because he stops teasing and goes straight back to plunging Shiro’s flushed cock into his mouth. Shiro barely gets out a moan when Keith starts bobbing with fervor.

Shiro can feel Keith swallowing down precome hungrily as he bobs, and he wants nothing more than to thread his fingers into Keith’s hair and fuck into his mouth, to come down his throat. And Keith’s not making it easy for him to resist. He’s moaning around that cock while his hands hold fast to Shiro’s slacks to anchor himself there. 

If it weren’t for his pride, Shiro would have crashed the simulation right when Keith unbuttoned his pants. Now, he’s seconds away from completing the mission, and Keith’s trying to tempt him into abandoning his objective by fluttering his pretty violets at him and letting excess drool dribble down his chin sloppily. Shiro only manages to catch a small glimpse of it when he finally gave in and looked down for a second but it was more than enough. His breath hitches, no longer able to contain his panting moans.

“K-Keith… _hah_ …” he moans. "G-God...Keith..."

“You’re… so close...” Keith rasps between each bob over cock. “So close… I can… taste it, Shiro.”

“F-Fuck!” 

His pride as a pilot be damned, Shiro has to have his hands on Keith and _now_. 

With one hand on the controls and the other in Keith’s hair, he pulls and shoves Keith’s face down to take his entire cock. Keith chokes out a moan but relaxes his jaw until he can take Shiro down to the base, huffing short moans as Shiro’s hips hitch. Once. Twice. And on the third, Shiro throws his head back with a ragged moan as he comes down Keith’s throat. 

Keith swallows with a happy hum while Shiro’s hand drops from the controls to fumble into Keith’s hair. He takes deep breaths to get his composure, petting through Keith’s bangs. Keith slides off his cock and takes to his feet, wiping his chin of spit with the sleeve of his jacket. He looks at the simulator screen and lets out an amused chuckle.

“What do ya know, you passed,” Keith says, thumbing the ‘mission accomplished’ message on the screen. “I guess you really are the best pilot of your generation.”

Shiro chuffs a short laugh before grabbing Keith’s arm and pulling him down into several passionate kisses. He can feel Keith’s smile against his lips and taste himself on his eager tongue. When they break for air, Shiro stands, whirls them around and puts Keith back into the chair. 

“So what’s next?” Keith asks, a little breathy.

“You need more practice,” Shiro says, his lips brushing Keith’s with hot breaths. 

“That so?” Keith smirks.

“Yeah, and I’m thinking… we don’t leave until you pass,” Shiro suggests. “ _With_ distractions.”

“We’ll be here all night,” Keith informs him, and Shiro nods knowingly.

That results in a brazen grin from Keith. He takes the controls then shoots Shiro an inviting and haughty look.

“Ready when you are,  _ professor _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this drabble, please, leave a kudos or a comment. If you don't know what to write, you can simply leave a heart or the word 'kudos'. If you have a favourite part, tell me about it and how it made you feel. Any love you show for the content is always appreciated.
> 
> As with any of my works, you never need ask if you can make fanart. Just credit me and tag me on [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/RangoAte). I always love seeing art of any kind.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope to get more fresh drabbles out to you soon. Stay safe out there, Paladins.


	3. Shipwrecked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naval Captain Takashi Shirogane is shipwrecked but alive, and he has a certain finned friend to thank for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble rating: General Audiences  
> Tags: Ship Captain Shiro, Selkie Keith, Mermaid AU, No Voltron AU, several deaths mentioned but none major characters

They didn’t see the squall coming. 

The day had been so clear and beautiful, but the tide turned so quickly, as it so often does in these unpredictable waters. Great lurching waves, powerful sprays of sea water sloshing the deck and beating them down like a barrage of fists. Shiro did all that he could to keep his ship afloat, but in the end, the ocean is older and more powerful than any human could possibly imagine. 

He remembers the helm turning wildly at the last second, catching his prosthetic arm in the wheel with a cry. His first mate just barely had time enough to undo the belts on it to free him before they were both hit with another brutal wave. And just like that, his first mate was gone, leaving Shiro alone on the helm’s deck. Another wave lurched the boat before he could do anything, and it all turned over on its head.

Shouting, screaming, rushing water, and lightning illuminating the dark sea that surrounded him.

He couldn’t even grab the closest person to help them since he was sans an arm. All he could do was try vainly to reach the tumultuous surface and pray there was something floating that he could hold onto.  But there was too much force against him. Another lightning strike lit up his surroundings, showing nothing but pieces of broken ship and the silhouettes of sinking corpses. Men and women that he was responsible for, all gone. 

As the last of his air ran out, Captain Takashi Shirogane realized he was never going to make it. 

A captain always goes down with the ship, doesn’t he?

His vision blurred as more lightning brightened the dark for the last time, showing a shadow quickly approaching out of a kelp forest and crashing into him, before everything went dark.

*****

Water laps against Shiro’s foot, and he wakes in a haze, his head splitting like it was hit with a block and tackle. For all he knows, he was. When he tries to swallow, he finds his mouth dry and tasting of ocean salt. He tries to sit up and falls over with a surprised gasp.

His arm? Where’s his… 

Right. It's gone. 

Shiro tries again with his other arm and slowly sits up, blinking with a wince on his face as he takes in his surroundings.  A beach. Actually, an island. And no ship in sight except for the broken pieces of debris washing up in the shallows. 

Destroyed. It’s all been torn apart by the sea. His only solace is that he doesn’t see any bodies yet, but… he’s sure he’ll see them soon enough. For now though…

“W… Water,” Shiro rasps and stands, swaying a little. “And then… temp… temporary shelter,” he repeats from his training as a naval officer. 

He slowly travels the shore of the island, limping slightly as he goes and keeping his eyes peeled for anything he can use. He finds some rope and coils it up onto his shoulder. Any driftwood he finds that he can lift, he grabs and tosses further up the beach to give it a chance to dry out in the sun. He’ll pick it up later after he finds—

“There,” Shiro gasps with relief at the sight of a grove of coconut trees. 

Green coconuts means coconut water, if he remembers right. Climbing up is out of the question. Would have been even if he had both arms. So it takes him the better part of an hour to loop the rope he found up into the tree and shake loose a few coconuts. Luckily, they all land in the soft sand without breaking on contact, saving him from losing out on the water within. With a rock, he cracks them open and drinks his fill.

“Okay… water source acquired,” Shiro sighs, feeling his headache abate now that he’s hydrated. 

He squints out into the ocean, thinking for a moment he saw something bobbing there. A seal. Or maybe just more debris from the _Intrepid_. Whatever it was, it’s gone within a blink. Shiro tries to think nothing of it and gets to work on the next step of staying alive long enough to hope for rescue.

Near the grove is a good spot to set up camp, but first, he travels the perimeter of the island. 

It’s not very big. Maybe two miles in every direction and lush with trees in the center. No little lakes or ponds collecting rainwater, unfortunately, but plenty of birds and other small animals he can eat if he can put together some traps to catch them. For now, he gathers any wood and rope he can so he can secure a place for him to sleep.

He travels the island several times over to get as much salvageable supplies he can. He keeps his eye open for bodies and finds two. Cabin boys. Both drowned. With a heavy heart, Shiro moves them up the beach so that the tide won’t take them back. He covers them in palm leaves for now, vowing to bury them when he has the energy.

At the end of his first day, he has a decent little shelter set up. It’s not exactly an inn, but it’ll keep him dry if it rains. Speaking of, he should set up a way to collect water in the event it does rain so he can save his coconut grove for emergencies. Better ration what he can to last as long as possible.

God knows how long he'll be marooned here.

*****

The next morning, Shiro finds a badly damaged cutlass on the beach near his home base. It won’t do much for defense—not that anything he’s encountered has been bigger than a parrot—but it’ll do fine for sharpening a stick into a spear for some fishing. Which is what he does then heads out to the shallows. 

His first day fishing doesn’t go too well since he hasn’t had to do anything like this since basic training, and that was… Well, it wasn’t yesterday, that’s for sure. He manages to get a single fish the entire day and not even a big one. Luckily, he found more of their supplies on the beach this morning, including some flint and a striker. One cooked fish is better than nothing at all.

“What I wouldn’t give for a working pistol,” Shiro sighs, seeing a flock of seagulls that are starting to look particularly delicious. 

Maybe the sea will take pity on him and provide him with a gun, but he’s not holding his breath.

*****

On the third day when Shiro wakes, it’s because he hears a loud splash nearby. He jolts awake and looks around for the cause, hoping that maybe one of his comrades made it. No people, but what he does find shocks him. 

A string of fish tied to a nearby branch, still wet.  Shiro just looks at them, utterly puzzled. 

Where did they come from? 

Shiro stands and goes down the beach, looking down the length both ways.  “Hello? Is someone there?” he calls out, but no one answers.

His gaze falls, and he sees the remains of footprints in the wet sand. Bare feet, and slightly too small to be his own. Another splash catches his attention, but it’s not a person. Just the tail of a diving sea lion. Clearly not the individual who left him this food offering.

Shiro shakes his head. There’s nothing he can do right now to find out. What he can do is set up a drying rack in the sun for the fish so that they’ll dry out and he can preserve them for a later date. He builds one out of sticks with half his day and strings them up, then spends the rest of the afternoon combing the beach for supplies to make a signal fire and digging graves for bodies. 

That night is the first time he eats well. He meant to save some of the fish for the next day, but he built up his hunger with all the work he did. He devours every single fish that dried all day, leaving nothing but the bones before falling asleep in his makeshift shelter. 

*****

Shiro gives fishing another go early in the day so he can avoid getting burned. He gets two and strings them up (with some difficulty) before doing his rounds around the island again to collect more driftwood. When he makes it back around, he finds there’s more fish on his drying rack. Several more. And they’re fresh enough that he scans around for the one leaving them. The closest thing to a person he sees is a dark shape submerging in the ocean waves, and it gives him chills.

Shiro’s heard the tallest tales of mythic creatures birthed of the ocean. Nymphs and sirens and monsters, but he’s never believed them. He doesn’t know anyone who’s actually ever seen such a creature. Only rumor and fisherman’s stories of how they are harbingers of death, that they happily drown sailors lost at sea. 

Could such a creature truly exist? Did it call upon a storm to destroy his ship? 

Is it just waiting for him to lower his guard so it gets a chance to finish him off? 

Or is he just looking for something to blame for the tragedy that befell his ship and his crew? 

*****

The next day, Shiro does his usual rounds after eating, but instead of going all the way around the island, he slips into the forest to double back to his camp. He makes it there quickly enough and hunkers down, crawling through the brush to hide in the foliage near his camp. If he has to waste the entire day for this, he will. He has to know the identity of the person or creature helping him and what their intentions are.

It happens sooner rather than later. 

A head emerges out of the water and looks down the beach cautiously. It’s far, but it looks human to Shiro. He watches as they crawl, not walk, up the beach, dragging a massive… tail? That's a tail behind him where his legs should be and it looks like… Well, it looks like a sea lion.

“What the hell… is that?” Shiro whispers to himself, filled with morbid curiosity.

A beast of legend? Half man, half seal? Some kind of… mammalian mermaid? Er, merman?

Shiro didn’t think it couldn’t get more strange, but it does. The seal-man sits down and begins peeling his skin off at the waist like he’s taking off trousers. It comes off and revealed in its place are legs. Actual legs. The man stands with ease and ties the sealskin around his waist like a loin cloth. He bends down and picks up his strand of fish, and strides up the beach quickly.

The closer he gets, the harder it is for Shiro to believe this creature means him harm at all. His body language lacks the fierceness he’d expect from a monster. Quite the opposite. He looks cautious but by no means malicious. With a proud smirk, the seal-man takes a knee and ties the fresh fish to his drying rack so that they’ll be ready for Shiro to eat by evening. 

Shiro now knows, without a doubt, this is the person who saved him during the squall that sank the Intrepid. He was the dark shadow that crashed into him. It wasn’t a shark or a piece of debris. It was this ocean-born creature coming to his rescue. And he’s doing it again by providing him with food.

Without his permission, Shiro’s body moves to meet his savior. He steps out of the brush next to his campsite, and from the way the seal-man jumps back with wide eyes, he knows he’s startled him. 

Now that Shiro can see his face, he is struck by it. 

Sharp jaw, well built chest and arms from swimming, but soft eyes with dark irises that almost obscure his pupils. His hair is black as pitch, long about his shoulders and curling thanks to being wet, but Shiro imagines it’s soft when dry. His skin is so pale, it contrasts deeply against his hair and the small pink healed scars that litter his body from head to toe. There’s even a deep scar that cuts through his cheek.

Despite all of that, he’s easily the most handsome man Shiro’s ever seen.

But before he can say a word, the seal-man is bolting back to the ocean.

“No, wait! Please! I—”

But he’s already gone with a dive and a splash into the frothing waves. 

*****

For several days, Shiro doesn’t see the mysterious seal merman. Without his help, he still manages to feed himself without too much trouble. He keeps to his usual schedule, since routine is the only thing that’s going to keep him from losing his mind, but his eyes dart over to the ocean now and again, hoping to spot a head bobbing on the surface.

That dark head of hair finally breaches the water to look at Shiro on the fourth day. When Shiro waves at him and gestures to him to come closer, the man disappears again. He doesn't see him again for two days but Shiro doesn’t give up. Each time Shiro does see him, he waves again, showing that he means no harm, but the mer-creature still doesn’t come closer.

It’s another week and in the middle of his cooking fish on a fire that Shiro turns and sees the seal-man in the shallows. It’s a shock to see him there, on two feet with his seal skin tied to his hip. He doesn’t come closer, just stands there like he’s still trying to decide what to do, hands behind him like he’s nervously hiding something. Eventually he brings one hand out and gestures for Shiro to come to him.

“Alright…” Shiro hums and stands. “Nice and easy, Takashi… Don’t scare him.”

The captain is slow to approach and keeps his hand in sight so the man can see he’s unarmed. Seems to work wonders because instead of looking like he wants to run, the seal-man’s stance relaxes a little. Shiro stops a good few feet from him, the extra mile to make sure he doesn’t feel threatened.

“Hello,” Shiro tries, but before he gets anything else out, the man thrusts a hand out, making him flinch back. 

It’s not a weapon. It's another string of fish. 

“Oh, it’s… is this for me?” Shiro asks.

The seal-man nods, and Shiro carefully takes it. 

“Thank you,” Shiro says with a relaxed smile. 

The man just nods and makes a move to return to the water. 

“W-Wait!” Shiro calls out, and the seal-man freezes. 

His back is hunched and tight, ready to fight if he has too. He looks over his shoulder, dark eyes uncertain as they look Shiro over. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you before. Want to eat these with me?” Shiro asks, nodding at the fire. 

The man seems hesitant, his eyes darting between the ocean and the land. His hand absently goes to his face to touch his cheek, fingers ghosting over his scar as he nibbles his lip in thought. Does he think that Shiro’s going to...

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” Shiro assures him. “The invitation is open anytime you want to join.”

The seal-man says nothing but nods his understanding. Shiro offers him a polite nod back, then makes his way back to the fire he started. A few minutes later, once he’s got the fish cooking over the open flame, the seal-man approaches and takes a seat across the fire from him. He keeps his head down, but Shiro catches him looking up at him and his missing arm.

“Can you talk at all?” Shiro asks curiously but the man doesn’t answer. “Guess not,” he frowns with a sigh. “Are there more of you? More uh…” he stumbles, unsure what to call him. Merman? Seal nymph? 

“No,” the man finally says, and Shiro blinks with surprise. 

“You  _ can  _ talk,” Shiro says with relief but then furrows his brow. “No? No what?”

“No others,” he says, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. “I’m the only selkie here,” he reveals, touching his scar again. “I was... taken, but I escaped.”

“A selkie…” Shiro hums.

He’s never heard of anything like that but it must be some kind of mermaid. Or siren. It’s the only thing that makes sense. 

“So you live here, alone?” Shiro asks, and the selkie nods. 

“I saw the ship going down,” the selkie says and looks up at Shiro with solemn eyes. “I went to scavenge, but… I saw you trying to claw your way to the surface with one arm.”

The selkie reaches out and takes one of the fish from the fire. It’s not finished cooking, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him. He pulls it off the stick and shovels the whole thing down his throat in one smooth swallow. Not unlike a sea lion, Shiro notes. It’s very strange to witness, but he takes it in stride since it’s not the weirdest thing he’s seen this past week.

“You saved me,” Shiro states, and the man nods before taking another fish. “Why?” he asks, and the selkie shrugs.

“You needed help. I helped,” he answers plainly. “Nothing more to it.”

That makes Shiro smile and huff out a little laugh. 

“Couldn’t let me drown...” Shiro shakes his head with another laugh. “...because you’re a good person?” he finishes, and the other man snorts.

“Yeah, I guess,” the selkie says with the first real sign of a smile. “My mom used to say, ‘Good deeds lead to a lot of opportunities for scars,’”

“With all the scars between us, I think we’ve done enough good deeds for a lifetime,” Shiro jokes, gesturing at his arm, and both of them laugh.

They share the meal together, Shiro asking questions, and the creature being vague in his answers as if he doesn’t want to reveal too much. He won’t tell Shiro where he lives or sleeps, only that it’s a kelp forest nearby. He won’t answer any questions about his seal skin and claims he can’t remember where he’s from since he was taken as a boy. Hell, he even evades telling Shiro his name, saying it doesn’t have a human equivalent.

In the weeks that follow, they become friends. Working together to keep Shiro fed and gathering supplies to keep him alive. Shiro gets the feeling it’s been a long time since his new friend has had anyone to talk to as evidenced by several socially awkward silences. That said, it’s nice having someone to talk to, and it doesn’t hurt that the selkie is… very easy on the eyes.

“How come you’ve never left to go look for your family?” Shiro wonders. 

“I wouldn’t know where to go,” the selkie says. “Besides, it’s too dangerous to go anywhere alone, especially in the ocean. I’d never make it. So I just… stay here.”

Shiro’s heart aches for him. Alone and stuck in place when he’d like to move forward. 

“It’s not so bad here,” the man shrugs and smiles with his chin tucked. “Not anymore, I guess.”

That turns that ache in Shiro’s chest into a blooming warmth and fondness. Part of Shiro wouldn’t mind being marooned here with him forever. But another part of him wants to take his newfound friend away from this place. To leave and journey the world together.

Would he leave this place? If Shiro offered it to him?

“If I manage to get off this island and get back home… Do you want to come with me?” Shiro wonders as they watch the sunset.

“Why?” the selkie asks.

“You helped me. I’d like to help you,” Shiro says. “Maybe we can find your family."

“And if they’re all dead?”

Shiro looks over to find that somber face ducked down with a frown. It’s not a look he likes seeing. Shiro reaches out and cups his scarred cheek. The selkie sucks in a sharp breath and freezes at the touch, but allows Shiro to raise his gaze. Shiro offers the man a soft, sympathetic smile. 

“Then… You can travel with me. At least then, you won’t have to be alone anymore,” Shiro offers, tucking a loose strand of his hair behind his very human looking ear. The selkie gives him a weak, crooked smile before clearing his throat and looking away.

“I’ll think about it,” he decides, leaning on Shiro to enjoy the sunset to its fullest. 

*****

It’s a month before their opportunity to be rescued arrives. A passing whaling ship is spotted. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than never being rescued. Shiro lights up his signal fire, and in record time, a dinghy is sent to the island to retrieve them. Shiro was lucky enough to find some water-damaged but usable clothes from the wreckage for the selkie to wear, but he keeps his seal skin tied around his hips, unwilling to part with it for reasons he won’t declare.

“You’re the Captain of the naval ship the _Intrepid?_ Shirogane, you said?” the whaler captain asks when they meet.

“Yes,” Shiro nods. “The only proof I still have is this,” he says, pulling the only surviving medal from his well worn uniform.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I believe you,” the whaler says, waving it off. “And if you want, maybe I should take you to the nearest port? You and your uh…”

“My first mate,” Shiro covers quickly. “His name is uh… Keith,” he picks out randomly, thinking there  _ might  _ have been someone on his ship by that name so if they check the manifest they’ll believe it.

“Sure, sure,” the whaler nods. “Don’t suppose there’s a reward for savin’ you, is there?”

“I’ll make sure her majesty’s navy repays you handsomely for your... _selfless_ kindness,” Shiro assures him, making the selkie roll his eyes. Luckily, the whaler doesn’t see, he just preens with pride.

“Suppose it’s my civic duty. Alright then hop aboard, we’ll get you to port in two weeks,” the whaler tells him and gestures them towards the dinghy. “You’ll be pullin’ your own weight, I reckon?”

“Of course, we will,” Shiro nods and thanks him again. 

The moment they’re out of earshot of the whaling captain, the selkie leans over with a stifled snort.

“Keith?” the selkie asks, his voice a whisper so as not to be overheard.

“Oh… Sorry, I panicked,” Shiro admits with a nervous laugh. “You never gave me a name so—It was the first thing that jumped into my head. You kinda… look like a Keith, if that helps. A-Anyway, you can change it once we get back to the mainland. You don’t have to keep it just because I—”

“No. Actually, I like it,” the selkie admits with a smirk. “Keith. Keeeith.  _ Keith _ ,” he says again, trying it on for size. “Short and simple. Easy to say. It stays. I’m Keith.”

“Keith it is then,” Shiro smiles and extends his hand. “Nice to officially meet you, Keith.”

“Happy to be aboard, Shiro,” Keith answers as he takes his hand for a shake. 

They board the dingy and then the whaling ship, looking off the bow as their island disappears into the horizon. Keith looks sad to see it go but smiles nonetheless. It’s bittersweet that smile. Shiro doesn’t doubt that Keith might have a few fond memories of the place despite his loneliness, and he feels for him.

“I’m glad you decided to come with me,” Shiro says, taking Keith's hand and giving it a squeeze. 

“Gotta make sure you don’t drown again, old man. You’ve only got one good arm, hate for you to lose the other for doing too many good deeds,” Keith smirks, and Shiro laughs heartily in response. “Besides that, I don’t think I could go back to living that hermit life.”

Keith squeezes his hand back resulting in another fond look from Shiro. Soon enough, they’ll reach the nearest port, and they can charter a ship back to the mainland. Once there, they can do some research into where Keith came from. After that, they can find a way to locate his family and reunite them. 

He might lose Keith ultimately, returning him to the ocean where he belongs, but for now, he’ll gladly take any time they have together while they have it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this drabble, please, leave a kudos or a comment. If you don't know what to write, you can simply leave a heart or the word 'kudos'. If you have a favourite part, tell me about it and how it made you feel. Any love you show for the content is always appreciated.
> 
> As with any of my works, you never need ask if you can make fanart. Just credit me and tag me on [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/RangoAte). I always love seeing art of any kind.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope to get more fresh drabbles out to you soon. Stay safe out there, Paladins.


	4. Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro makes a big mistake and Keith makes sure he pays the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble rating: EXPLICIT (CHECK TAGS BEFORE READING)  
> Tags: Bottom/Submissive Shiro, Top/Dominant Keith, bondage, spanking, degradation (only a smidge), begging, fingering, aftercare

“You knew this was coming so you shouldn’t be so surprised,” Keith says, low in his ear. “What? Didn’t think I’d hit you this hard?” he asks and then his hand flies with a loud resounding smack.

Feels like fire blooming on his ass cheeks as he bites back a surprised gasp. Keith’s never hit so hard so early before. But then, Shiro’s never had an infraction like this before. Another spank lands hard and Shiro exhales a pained noise as he contemplates his situation.

He’s naked and bound with ropes. The bindings surround his torso in intricate knots, framing his large pecs and trussing his muscled arms behind his lower back. He’s been told to keep his face to the surface of the coffee table with his ass presented. His flushed red ass that’s already swelling a bit from the half a dozen hits he’s already taken. It’s only going to get redder and more swollen as Keith's just getting started. 

“I warned you, didn’t I?” Keith asks and when Shiro doesn’t immediately answer he pulls on his hair to make him look into his borderline disgusted eyes. “ _Didn’t I?”_ he repeats in his harsh tone.

“Y-Yes sir, yes sir, y-you warned me,” Shiro stammers out. 

“And you still didn’t listen, so now…” Keith frowns and presses his face back to the table. “...now you’re getting punished, just like you deserve, _right?”_ he asks.

“Y-Yes sir,” Shiro nods. “J-Just...just like I d-deserve…”

“Want me to give it to you? Your punishment?”

“Yes...please…”

Keith spanks hard, over and over, alternating between cheeks but it’s little comfort with how unrestrained the blows are. 

He really messed up this time and with how Keith’s hitting him it shows. Not an ounce of mercy in these strikes. Each time a palm lands on his ass cheek and pain sparks out from the impact, Shiro lets out a pained noise but it doesn’t stop him from getting rock hard.

Keith, of course, comments on it.

“God, look at you,” Keith tsks. “You actually like it. Pathetic.”

Keith can be so mean like this but...Shiro revels in it. The scrutiny. The judgement. The pain.

Keith trails a wet finger down Shiro’s spine. It makes him shiver just as much as the derision does. Keith’s finger brushes down the cleft of his ass cheeks and over his puckered hole and taint, resulting in a nervous swallow from Shiro. Then he flicks hard on Shiro’s hanging balls making him flinch and whimper.

“Yeah, you like this,” Keith says into his ear, his hand resting on the radiating heat of Shiro’s abused ass. “You like being punished, or else you wouldn’t be dripping like a slut all over the floor,” he says pinching his asscheek hard and making Shiro yelp. 

“P-Please,” Shiro whines. “That...h-hurts.”

“You’re not supposed to like it. You’re in trouble, remember?” Keith almost spits. “If you weren’t so bad, you’d be getting something nicer.”

But Keith releases his pinching hold on Shiro’s ass and circles him. He stops at his face and tilts it up, gently.

“You know why you’re here,” Keith reminds him. “Don’t you?”

Shiro nods in shame, because yes, he does. 

He told Keith he’d be better about taking care of himself. No more all-nighters several days in a row. No more forgetting to shower and skipping meals. No more abusing his body in the training room with the gladiator. And he did well for a while, but then he nearly passed out during a meeting a week ago. He hadn’t slept in two days and he skipped breakfast.  Keith was furious but he waited for Shiro to recover before exacting his punishment.

“You broke a promise,” Keith tells him and circles around again to his ass. “So you don’t get to like this until I feel you’ve learned your lesson.”

Keith’s spankings recommence. They aren’t as hard as before but they don't need to be. Since his ass is tender and sore from the previous round, Keith doesn’t need to hit as hard to reach the same pain index. On occasion, after a painful smack, he teases Shiro’s asshole with the spit-slick pads of his fingers to get him exhaling weak moans in between his gasps of pain. It’s not enough to offset the pain; it’s just a reminder of what he can’t have because he’s been bad and it only fills Shiro with desperate longing.

Finally, Shiro breaks and starts actively sobbing out his apology, begging for release from this punishment.

“K-Keith, please! I...I’m sorry,” he babbles, tears and drool mixing on the table. “I p-promise to...take b-better...care of myself…p-please…”

“You will?” Keith asks with a serious face and Shiro nods his head eagerly. “How?”

“I-I...I’ll eat more a-and I...I’ll s-start going to bed earlier,” he stammers and whines as Keith’s finger teases at his hole again. “N-No more training s-sessions on the w-weekdays…I-I promise...”

“Do you mean it?” Keith asks and puts just the slightest pressure on Shiro’s tight asshole. The sensation has Shiro biting back his whimpers. “Or is this a ploy to placate me so you can get fucked like the dirty, whiny, fucking slut you are?

“I p-promise,” Shiro repeats. 

“Hmm...I believe you,” Keith says and Shiro is visibly relieved. “That doesn’t mean your spankings are over. It just means you get to enjoy them a little more now.”

Keith slathers his hot wet tongue over Shiro’s asshole, rimming and tasting with fervor. He plants wet, hungry kisses down until he’s sucking Shiro’s balls into his mouth. It’s got Shiro gasping and moaning as his toes curl. Right in the midst of that tongue sliding back up his taint, Shiro receives another hard smack that has him crying out. 

Pleasure and pain again, only now the balance is more even. 

Keith spanks hard as he eats Shiro’s ass out, making the man under him emit nothing but sobbing moans and weak gasps.

“P-P-Please...K-Keith…” Shiro pants, his face hot and body jolting with each swipe of tongue. “I-I...I’m d-done…”

“Have you learned your lesson then?

“Y-Yes, please, Keith. I-I learned it. I n-need it...I need you…” he babbles.

“Need what?” Keith smirks, enjoying dragging out this torture as long as he can. 

“You know…wh-what I...” Shiro whines but Keith doesn’t give in. “Y-Your cock...p-please…I...need t-to come...on y-your cock,” he begs.

“Hmm, I still don’t think you’ve learned your lesson,” Keith says and Shiro damn near cries. “But I guess we can pick this up again tomorrow. And I suppose you deserve something nice for taking your punishment so well so far. 

Keith presses two thick fingers into Shiro’s tight asshole making him choke out a strangled moan that vaguely sounds like Keith’s name. Each thrust of those fingers is met with a hard smack to his ass cheeks but Shiro doesn’t even register that pain anymore, not with the feeling of his walls sucking in those fingers and feeling every pistoning thrust like an ecstatic punch to his gut. He drools helplessly on the table, panting out moans as he’s fucked with fingers and punished with harsh strikes that he’ll be feeling tomorrow every time he sits down.

Shiro won’t get cock. Not tonight. He’ll have to earn that back by making good on his promise to be good. To do better. And Shiro’s more than okay with that as Keith brings him to a shaking release on that table with nothing more than two fingers. 

Tomorrow night will feature more of the same punishment, he knows. But it’ll also feature the same tender aftercare in their shared bed.

“I don’t...deserve you, Keith,” Shiro sighs into the pillow he’s holding as Keith works. Keith's already cleaned him up and now he’s massaging Shiro’s bruised cheeks with soothing oils. “You’re too good to me...I don’t deserve this,” he repeats closing his eyes with another deep sigh.

“Shiro,” Keith says and then kisses his way up his lover’s back. He lays down carefully on top of him, face pressed into the crook of his neck. “You deserve everything you get. My spankings. My punishments. My attention. My touch. My kisses. And...my love.”

Shiro opens his eyes to find Keith’s looking fondly at him. Keith kisses his cheek and Shiro’s insides melt with a sigh.

“Keith...I love you,” Shiro sighs and kisses him back.

“I love you too, Shiro,” Keith smiles. “Now get some rest,” he orders, hopping off Shiro and throwing a fresh blanket onto the bed for them. “No work tomorrow. If I see you on the computer before I get up, you’re in for a world of hurt.”

Shiro chuckles, “Yes, sir.” 

With that he spoons in close to Keith, wrapping an arm around the man he loves more than anything and only falling asleep after planting a dozen kisses into his neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this drabble, please, leave a kudos or a comment. If you don't know what to write, you can simply leave a heart or the word 'kudos'. If you have a favourite part, tell me about it and how it made you feel. Any love you show for the content is always appreciated.
> 
> As with any of my works, you never need ask if you can make fanart. Just credit me and tag me on [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/RangoAte). I always love seeing art of any kind.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope to get more fresh drabbles out to you soon. Stay safe out there, Paladins.


	5. A Pirate Origin Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young noble Galra Lord is given the opportunity of a lifetime when his ship is attacked by pirates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen (mentions of violence)  
> Tags: Pirate AU, No Voltron, Royal (Keith), Pirate Shiro, PLATONIC Sheith
> 
> Special Notes: This particular drabble is a prequel to a Klance WIP I'm working on. But since the focus is still Shiro and Keith and their budding friendship, it's going to be posted here and not in any other collection.

“Are you hungry, my lord?” the servant asks. 

The question wakes Keith from his staring over the banister to look at the frothy waters below. 

He wonders how quickly someone might jump in to rescue him if he fell overboard. Half a minute? A few seconds? Or would they catch him before his feet could leave the deck?

“Say again?” Keith asks, shaking his head. He wasn’t paying attention.

“You haven’t eaten since morning,” the servant informs him, as if he didn’t know from his grumbling stomach. “Would you like me to fetch you something to eat? It would be my honor.”

Keith sighs and leans a little on the railing. Sending him away to fetch food would allow him to stand here alone for a moment in peace. Perhaps only for a minute or two, but that's more than enough to enjoy the sunset without someone waiting on him hand and foot. 

“I am a bit famished,” Keith admits. “And thirsty as well.”

“I’ll return at once with food and drink, my lord,” the man says, taking a bow before scurrying off. 

The moment Keith can’t hear the servant's steps, he strides away from the banister and further down the ship. The sunset is nice, but after two weeks on the sea, he’s grown used to them. The sun rises, the sun sets, and nothing ever changes for him except getting closer to his dreaded destination. 

He looks around to see if anyone is paying attention to him before slipping beside some crates and sitting down between them. Properly hidden away, his hand reaches down into his tunic to bring up a pendant. He opens it with a flick of his fingers to look at the pictures inside with a despondent sigh.

Why did his parents have to die? 

His mother, a Galra duchess of a royal line, caught some kind of illness. She begged her husband to leave her be so he wouldn’t catch ill. Keith’s human father sent him to stay with some nobles, but he refused to leave his wife’s side. He caught the sickness as well and followed her to the grave. Now only Keith remains.

His father and mother were the Duke and Duchess of the Themor Territories. They raised him with the intention of him becoming the next Duke in another ten, maybe fifteen years. They taught Keith everything from laws to politics to fencing to hunting—anything and everything he could ever want to know. He was even looking forward to running his family’s country with the partner of his choosing at his side. But now that the title of Duke is Keith’s, he wishes he could just give it to someone else.

But he can’t, can he?

The only way out of this is death, and Keith’s pretty sure some necromancer would be hired to bring him back if he succeeded in throwing himself out a five-story palace window or drowning himself in the briny sea.  That's because Galra Royalty like three things and will do anything to obtain them: purity of blood, power, and worldly riches. 

While of noble blood, Keith is only half Galra. It doesn’t make him the most attractive prospect to other more ‘pure’ Galra royal lines. That said, his family has a lot of power in Thermor and an absurd amount of riches thanks to the abundant number of quintessence mines dotted about his land.  Keith may not be desirable for his lineage, but he is valuable, which is enough to seal his fate.

To make certain Keith is used to his fullest, he’s being sent by his guardians from his own kingdom to another across the sea to stay with some relatives. Very distant relatives. Which is why Keith knows the intention is for him to become close with one of the noble daughters of the realm in the hopes he will marry one when he’s old enough. To keep the bloodline relatively pure and to keep his family’s land and valuable quintessence in Royal Galra hands. 

“Disgusting,” Keith spits. 

Barely twelve years old, and already they’re playing at matchmaker. It makes Keith sick to his stomach to think about it, and he closes his pendant with his parent’s portraits in it before tucking it away. 

The Galra can have his stupid riches, the whole hold full. They can have the land and the quintessence too for all he cares. No amount of gold or jewelry or power will change that he lost something of his soul and any amount of freedom he had the day they put his parents in the ground. 

He wishes...he could just disappear.

Someone shouts something, but Keith barely registers the words before he hears the whistle of gunfire. 

Keith gasps as the deck is sprayed with several rounds of grapeshot, the projectiles lodging into the boat and tearing through several sailors onboard. Keith takes a peak around the box and his heart leaps into his throat at the bloody sight of several dead and injured men. 

“Prepare another round!” he hears a man shout in the distance. “At anyone standing on the deck with a weapon! And fire!”

Keith's gut twists and has him shrinking into the boxes to hide. There’s more shouting and screaming, but Keith doesn't dare expose himself and become the next target.

Pirates, Keith thinks just as grapeshot from their swivel guns pepper the ship again. Keith grabs his head and ducks, praying nothing hits him or the crew. People do get hit though as Keith hears several of the rounds sink into flesh and cries of pain as people drop. Thankfully, the crates he’s hiding behind soak up any stray shots that might have reached him under normal circumstances.

“Surrender, and we’ll cease! Continue to fight, and we’ll be forced to fire again!” the voice shouts. “You have ten seconds!”

They don’t need them. Someone runs up a white flag within two. It’s better to surrender and let them take what they want than to fight and die. 

Keith stays hidden behind the boxes and watches warily as the pirates board the ship. He’s heard tales of pirates before. Fantastical ones in which they steal from lords and merchant's vessels. The stories make them out to be adventurous, tied to each other by a strong bond of brotherhood and self-imposed codes of conduct. But others are painted as savage murderers. 

His curiosity has him wondering what these ones look like.

From what Keith can see peeking through the crates, they range from Human to Galra to Altean and several species in between. Their clothes are pieced together from odds and ends. Ragged but not overly filthy. Some have eyepatches and others robotic limbs. Keith’s eyes wander until it sees the pirate ship behind them, then his mouth gapes as his eyes blow wide.

It’s the most feared ship on the high seas. 

The Black Lioness.

Only the most dangerous in these waters, especially to the rich nobles and merchant class. They’ve stolen more goods than all the other pirates he’s heard of combined. They attack ships just at sunset when people are beginning to change shifts and many are getting ready for sleep. When people are at their most vulnerable. The young half-galra’s eyes widen with awe as he looks at them.

They gather up the crew into one area of the deck, tying up those who are likely to make trouble. Those injured by the shots are dragged over to the rest of the crew and allowed to be treated by their own. The dead stay where they lie, but Keith marvels that none of the pirates steps on them or throws the corpses around. Before he knows it, more than a dozen pirates have boarded, and by the looks of it, there's a dozen more back on their ship, keeping their guns trained on the deck.

Keith shrinks back into the boxes as someone whizzes right by him. Some kind of cat Galra, and she’s carrying two of Keith’s vassals, one in each hand. She has them tied up and tosses them both into the pile of surrounded crew members. They scan around looking for Keith, and a panicked look overtakes them when they can’t find him. They all look scared, and Keith can’t blame them.

“The holds are bursting with swag!” someone comments as they bring up a handful of jewels. “Look it! Gold and wit ruby settin’s.”

“Must be someone noble onboard,” hums an Altean with an eye patch, a woman with a sharp jaw and scars on her arms. “Some Galra lord from the look of the style. You were right, Captain.”

“Captain’s always right,” snorts a fat human male. “He knows a good target when he sees ‘em. Knows this ship looked too bland for all the puffed-up looking servants aboard to be normal transport.”

Keith peeks out from behind the box again, and his eyes fall on the back of the Captain. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Human. He has a large prosthetic arm of Galra design whose metal appendages finger at the jewels he’s handed.

“A Galra lord?” the Captain hums. “Find him. Maybe he’ll fetch a good ransom.”

Keith barely manages a nervous swallow before someone yanks him out of his hiding place by his ankle. He yelps at the initial pull but can do nothing to stop the monstrously built cat Galra from lifting him up and sniffing him. Keith kicks her hard in the face with his free foot, but that does nothing but make her spit out a hiss and extend him further away. She raises a clawed hand and rears it back. Keith makes to protect his face, but the claws never come.

“Hold, Marksha,” says a calm yet firm voice. 

“Let me slash the brat, Alnoa!” hisses Marksha. “Little prick kicked me in the nose! Eye for a fuckin’ eye! I’ll rip his right out!”

Keith peaks out from behind his fingers to see the Altean pirate woman with the eyepatch has the Galra’s arm in her firm grip.

“Does he smell Galran?” Alnoa asks, flicking her ponytail of dreaded locks over her shoulder.

“How the fuck would I know? He kicked me in the thing I do that with!” she spits and shakes Keith by his ankle. 

“His clothes, they look royal,” Alnoa glances over. “I’d know. Spent enough time in palaces killing for them… Captain! I think we found the lord.”

They march Keith over to the captain, still upside down. Marksha drops him and hard, smirking when his shoulder hits the deck. Keith lets out a pained grunt and shoots her a venomous glare before a boot steps forward in front of him. His whole body goes cold with fear as he looks up at the countenance above him.

The Captain of the Black Lioness. The scourge of the western seas. His surcoat is made of deep black fabric with accents in golden braid. The buttons on his coat look to be made of ivory or mother of pearl, Keith’s not sure. Across his face and nose is a jagged scar only making him even more intimidating. He takes a knee and grabs Keith by his face with his big hand, turning him to the side as if inspecting him.

Keith has skin tone in line with humans but his ears have points. His eyes are not yellow like the Galra, but they are slitted if one looks close enough. And there, behind his lips, are small fangs. Human traits always trump most of the recessive Galra ones when it comes to genetics, but it’s clear enough that he’s not all human.

“He’s half,” the Captain hums and lets go of Keith’s face to stand. “Won’t get much for him. Galra nobles only value purebloods.”

“But if he had this much wealth, he might be worth something,” someone comments. 

“True,” the Captain agrees with a nod. He looks down on Keith. “Let’s find out who he is first.”

The first mate picks Keith up, and though he struggles, she shoves him towards the crew and passengers. 

“First one to tell me who this brat is doesn’t get shot,” Alnoa says as she pulls out a pistol and cocks it. 

She aims the gun down, searching the crowd for an answer. Keith’s vassals say nothing, even going so far as to shake their head at Keith, telling him to say nothing. But then she points the gun at a crying girl, the daughter of the ship’s cook. Keith’s courage surges and he finds his voice.

“Yorak de Kogane of the Thermor Territories, Duke and only heir of the Kogane line!” Keith practically shouts. “You know now, so don’t hurt them!”

Keith’s servants look absolutely dismayed. The pirates knowing who he is means they’ll know how valuable he is. They could kill him or take him, either would send a message and either would be proof that his vassals didn’t do enough to protect their charge.

“I’m shocked. The royal brat doesn’t want the peasants to get shot on his account,” snorts the first mate. “A first time for everything, I suppose,” she adds and holsters the weapon. 

“The only heir though?” Marshka grins, showing her cat-like teeth. “That’s a pretty penny.”

“It is,” the Captain nods. “We’ll take him then.”

“No! My lord!” Keith’s servant calls out, and Marshka hisses at him. He cowers away from her and doesn’t look up again.

“Don’t worry, little lord. No one else is going to get killed. Not even you,” Alnoa says, squeezing tight onto his arm. He struggles, but she still manages to tie his wrists behind him. “And you’ll be back to your cushy life in a palace soon enough.”

Back to his life...

“Is the whole crew rounded up?”

“Yes, Captain,” someone says. 

“Make the offer,” the Captain says and stands up tall, face set in stone as he looks over Keith’s shipmates.

“Thanks for your hospitality,” says Marshka, and the entire pirate crew laughs. “We’re taking your valuables, but don’t fret. You have enough supplies to get to the nearest port but nothing more. Can’t have you chasing after us, after all,” she chuckles. “But we do have room for a few new recruits. That’s if you’re tired of serving spoiled brats like this one—” she shakes Keith, and he stifles a growl. “—and you’re ready to make some actual gold for a change that doesn’t involve licking some nobleman’s boots. So… any takers?”

The deck couldn’t be more silent. The only sound is the blowing wind, the creaking of ropes, the flutter of sails, and the ocean splashing against the hull. Not a single person speaks. Some of the crew look at Keith with pity or turn their head away, guilt-stricken. 

They’re too afraid to fight them, or they aren’t willing to risk their standing with the nobles by accepting.  They’d lose everything with no guarantee of a gain if they joined a bunch of pirates.  The only person who’d ever accept that offer would be someone with nothing left to lose.

“Suit yourselves, you bunch of yellow-bellied dogs,” she sneers and shoves Keith into turning around. 

“Let’s move, little lord,” says Alnoa, taking his arm.

Keith goes without a fight, guided by the first mate’s iron grip, his eyes downturned. His gaze falls onto the boots of the captain, and Keith stops. He stubbornly holds his footing just steps away from the boarding planks.

“I said let’s go, little—”

“Is that offer for anyone?” Keith asks, and the pirate captain stops.

“What’s that, you little brat?” sneers Marshka with a glare. “Speak up!”

“Can anyone accept the offer to join you?” Keith asks a little louder, his eyes determined and focused on the captain’s back.

“You hear that, Captain? Little Lord fancies himself a pirate I’m thinkin’!” The fat pirate bellows, clutching his gut. 

Several pirates laugh including the first mate who snorts out one subdued chortle before turning serious again. But the captain, he doesn’t laugh. He slowly turns and looks down at Keith’s face. His countenance is serious and his eyes contemplative. It’s as if he’s trying to read the tale of Keith’s life in his eyes.

“This isn’t a game, Duke of Thermor,” the Captain says seriously. 

“I know it’s not,” Keith claims, sounding braver than he feels. 

The captain steps closer and towers over Keith. He’s never felt so small. 

“You wouldn’t get special treatment here,” he starts. “No ‘yes, my lord’ or ‘how can I serve you, my lord’. There will be no rich dinners or fancy balls. No silk clothing that you didn’t steal and sell to eat. No silver that you don’t spend on ropes and riggings for the ship. And no plush bed with embroidered pillows of goose down.”

Keith swallows nervously as the captain’s stare intensifies. 

“You would start at the bottom and only through the hardest grueling work, would you become our equal. You will go hungry some nights and sleepless on others. You will steal and sometimes even murder to survive or acquire the luxuries you have taken for granted your entire life,” the captain continues. “The second you step onto our ship as a pirate, Yorak de Kogane of Thermor _dies_ , and you can _never_ go back to that old life.”

He can never go back…

“Are you prepared to kill Duke Yorak de Kogane?” the captain asks. “Do not say yes if you are not prepared to do so.”

There’s nothing Keith wants more than that. He feels himself grinning despite himself, the points of his Galra-inherited fangs showing.

“He died the second you boarded his ship,” Keith says, and for the first time, the captain smirks, almost impressed.

“That so? I’ll be sure to spread the message across the western seas,” the captain says. He then looks to his second. “Once we’re aboard the Black Lioness, untie the boy and give him a mop. He’ll start earning his place by cleaning the ship from bow to stern.”

They lead him off the ship still in his bindings, a show for those left aboard the Titan. So they know that pirates took Keith and to help spread the word that no lord is safe in these waters as long as the Black Lioness patrols the seas. Once the ship is on its way, the ropes come off. 

Keith could almost cry. Not because he’s been untied, but for the first time, he feels truly unshackled. He chose to do something with his life, and finally, he’s able to do so without someone telling him he can’t. A mop is thrust into his open hand by a stern-looking man with only half his teeth. Keith looks up to the captain, who’s standing nearby with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“Welcome to the Black Lioness,” he says and thumbs his chest. “Captain Takashi Shirogane, the biggest threat in this or any other ocean. But you will call me Captain, until you’ve earned more than that.”

“Yes… Captain,” Keith manages to say, taking the mop into both hands.

“What’s your name, cabin boy?” Alnoa asks, a serious look on her face. Keith’s beginning to think she doesn’t have any other kind of face to sport.

“My name? But you know—”

“Did you want to continue to go by your royal Galra name?” Captain Shirogane asks, a curious smile on his face. “A man should get to choose the name he goes by.”

Keith blinks with thought. 

When he was younger, Keith was told he had to go by Yorak when around the other nobles. Or else the Galra would never respect him. But he had a human name too, thanks to his father. It was only ever used when it was just him and his parents. And now the only ones who ever called him by it are dead.

Now that Yorak is dead… He has a chance to be reborn as the person he always wanted to be.

No lord. No royal family name. No country to affiliate with. Just himself.

“My name is Keith,” Keith announces with pride, his chest out. “And it is an honor to join your crew, Captain,” he says extending his small hand for a shake.

“A pleasure to have you aboard, Keith,” Captain Shirogane says while giving him a firm shake. 

Keith has blood and blisters on his fingers by the time he finishes swabbing the deck. His nice clothes are soaked in sweat, dirt, and ocean spray. His stomach is full of bland beans and blander biscuits plus a cup of the worst ale he’d ever tasted in his life. Keith stretches out in his hammock made from an old dirty sail, strung up below deck with several other snoring sailors. It smells of sweat, gunpowder, and rum. Keith puts his hands behind his head and lets out a sigh as he drifts off to sleep to the sound and feel of the rocking waves.

It’s no palace in the country with servants attending to his every whim.

But Keith’s finding that’s exactly what he loves most about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this drabble, please, leave a kudos or a comment. If you don't know what to write, you can simply leave a heart or the word 'kudos'. If you have a favourite part, tell me about it and how it made you feel. Any love you show for the content is always appreciated.
> 
> As with any of my works, you never need ask if you can make fanart. Just credit me and tag me on [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/RangoAte). I always love seeing art of any kind.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope to get more fresh drabbles out to you soon. Stay safe out there, Paladins.


End file.
